Some Risks Involved
by Spinesless
Summary: Takes place during X-Men: First Class. Charles using Cerebro for the first time. On hiatus indefinitely.
1. I

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. **

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><p>He's dimly aware of world in his immediate vincinity. He can sense Hank's giddiness as the printer spits out numbers. He can feel Erik standing slightly to the side, hands in his pockets, smirking. This universe is clouded behind the rush of Cerebro. These minor but nearest presences are nothing compared to the minds of everyone human and mutant for miles around.<p>

It's a rush. Humans and mutants are separated by their different brainwaves. Mutants stick out against the gray backdrop of normality. There's more of them than he could have ever thought. He opens his mind wider to the outer limits of the machine's and his own capabilities, lightly touching them all. He feels the incredible power in every fiber of his being and it's amazing. There's a flutter at the back of his mind that it all might be too much too fast, but he ignores it.

Too soon he feels the machine losing energy as Hank powers it down. Charles wants to say, no, turn it back on. He wants to feel that rush, that amazing ability to be in the mind of everybody at one time. But he stays quiet and opens his eyes to everyone's glorious grin. He feels himself smile and slowly removes the helmet and hands it back to Hank, who's talking in a rushed voice.

"That was brilliant! I can't believe it worked!" There's the sound of shuffling paper and Charles glances at Erik, who has his arms folded over his chest.

"Nice going, Labrat," he smirks.

"Oh it was nothing, really," Charles says airly. "I'm always happy to lend my powers to the cause."

He leans forward on the railing to gather himself. His heart is pounding and the edge of his vision is slightly blurred. He frowns, realizing that after the initial high has worn off, he doesn't feel very well. Erik notices his change of expression and takes a few steps closer.

"Not feeling so hot, Labrat?"

His eyes flutter. Hank turns.

"Charles?"

It takes a moment for him to answer.

"I'm fine," he says, smiling a bit. "A bit worn, that's all. I've never had to use my telepathy this much before. It's rather…" He looks up. "Draining."

Hank turns back to many screens.

Charles steps off the platform, ignoring the lightheadedness he is so sure will pass.

"You sure you're okay there?" Erik's voice is tinged with concern. "You kind of look like you're gonna puke."

"I just need a moment." Charles waves him off. He takes a few more steps forward and freezes. He wavers.

"Stay with me, Labrat."

Spots appear in front of his eyes. His knees buckle and he pitches forward. Erik darts ahead, catching his dead weight before he can hit the ground. Charles sags into him and Erik lowers both of them to the floor. "Hank!" Erik is yelling. "Get me some help!"

TBC, shortly.

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><p><strong>AN: herp review if you derp**


	2. II

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. **

**A/N: Reviews much appreciated, but of course, not required.***

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><p>"You nearly scared Raven half to death," Erik chides. He walks in levitating a metal tray several centimeters above his fingertips.<p>

Charles is sitting in an arm chair by the window, tight lipped and trembling slightly. A table and vacant chair are before him. The lights are off, the only light coming from the window.

"I didn't mean to," he says quietly.

Erik places the tray down and sidles into the formerly empty seat, leaning his elbows on the narrow surface. "_I_ know you didn't," he says. "The point is, you did."

Charles only half shrugs. He takes a cup of tea from the tray and adds a few spoons of sugar to it. He stirs it several times with a slender metal spoon, eyes unfocused.

"She cares about you, you know," Erik continues.

"So I've noticed." He rubs his eyes.

Erik stares out the window. Clouds are gathering, forming a white, overcast film. Charles is stirring his tea again, the spoon clanging against the sides of the china cup. Without even looking, Erik flicks the utensil on to the table. Charles frowns and holds the cup and saucer with both hands.

"Hank says he'll adjust the machine so you wont have such an adverse reaction to it."

"I was _fine-_"

"Yes, of course, I had forgotten 'passing out' was classified as '_fine'_. Silly me." There was a metallic edge to his voice.

"Thank you, by the way," Charles replies. "for catching me." His voice is light and he means what he's saying.

Erik is the slightest bit taken aback. He composes himself and waves it off like it's nothing. "Of course, of course. It's not like I would have let you fall. Metal floors hurt, you know, and being concussed with a cracked skull is never fun."

The tea cup rattles loudly against the saucer in Charles's grip. Erik frowns. He reachers over and takes it from him before he can drop it and spill hot tea everywhere. "You should eat something." He gestures to the tray.

Charles shakes his head. "I'm not hungry."

Erik looks incredulous. "You had unreasonably low blood sugar, probably one of the contributing factors to your little episode, and _you're not hungry?_"

Charles just shrugs. "I don't eat when I'm not hungry."

"When was the last time you were hungry, then? Yesterday? Two days, a week ago?" His voice rises steadily.

"Please, Erik, you're not my mother. I can take care of myself, thank you very much."

"Well, you're not going mutant hunting, or using Cerebro until you're well-"

"Oh, for _God's_ sake, Erik-"

"No, Charles, _you _listen. You're the only one who can use to damned machine and you're no good to any of us passed out or _worse_. The mutant club can wait until it's clear you wont bloody _kill_ yourself for this cause."

Charles slumps back in the chair. He holds his fingers to his temple, an unconscious movement, not aware he was doing so. Quietly, he finally answers, "Risks must be taken."

Erik scoffs and flicks his wrist, annoyed. "Even so, you're not using Cerebro until you're-" He studies his face. "Are you alright?" he asks quietly.

"My head hurts," Charles asks truthfully. "It's fine, it happens rather frequently-"

"Again with this 'fine' nonsense." Erik sighs and gets up from his seat. He points at the tray, wherein lies a sandwich, crackers, and biscuits. "Eat," he instructs. "I'll get you some Tylenol."

Charles stares blinking at the tray. He begrudgingly picks up a cracker and takes a bite.

TBC, shortly

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><p><strong>*derp<strong>


	3. III

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything and I'm back for another chapter.**

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><p>They're back in the paneled metal sphere, just Hank, Erik, and Charles this time. Raven wanted to come, and nearly threw a fit. Charles spoke to her gently, and perhaps with a bit of mental persuasion, she stayed behind without causing too much of a scene.<p>

Erik resumes his place against the wall, arms folded across his chest as he watches Charles. He made sure the telepath ate that morning ("Erik, really?") and Hank was confident that all would go well since he adjusted the machine.

"Are you ready for this, Labrat?" Erik drops his arms as Charles steps up to the platform.

"Always was," he answers cooly.

Hank glances back and forth between the two and adjusts his glasses. He clears his throat like he wants to say something, but instead just turns his back and focuses on the many screens and buttons before him.

Charles takes the helmet with both hands and places it on his head. He grips the metal bar before him.

Hank presses a few buttons and with slight effort, pulls a lever with a yellow handle.

Charles is immediately swept back into his place between two worlds. Hank's and Eric's presence are more strongly felt this time around, he himself feels more grounded.

He lets his consciousness stretch to the outer limit of the machine's capability and looks into the sea of bodies. It's like he's joining them, catching snippets of conversation and even seeing through their eyes for fractions of seconds. The mutants, the outcasts, the one's with their fractured DNA, stick out, bathed in color. There are some old, some young, some very young. They're out in the world, interacting, hiding in plain sight from others and from themselves. Some react slightly to the invasion of their innermost thoughts, but most do not. They don't even realize it.

He feels Erik move over to the machine and he knows that he and Hank are talking, but Charles just ignores it and continues to feel _everything_.

He feels that swell of power; that feeling that he's so much bigger than he is and that he can do anything he wants.

Invincible.

Abruptly, to him, the machine powers down. The helmet is heavy as he lifts it off his head. He blinks a few times.

"How you feeling, Labrat?" Erik asks cautiously, still at the control panels behind him.

"Amazing," Charles answers honestly. "I wish you could try this, Erik. The rush is quite groovy."

He steps off the platform and Erik turns his head to watch him. He wants to move but Hank has him holding down this damn button while he checks some gage or whatnot.

"Thank you, Hank, I think what adjustments you made have really done the-" He stops suddenly.

"Charles?"

The telepath is staring into space, his face a mix of emptiness and confusion. He feels the ground under him tilt drastically, but it's nothing, it's nothing, he's fine, he takes a few steps forward and hit's the metal floor with a hollow _thump_.

"_Charles_!"

TBC, shortly

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><p><strong>AN: well this isn't a twoshot**

**thank you for reading and thank you for your comments, they are much appreciated**

**review if you derp **


	4. IV

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

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><p>It's the enveloping sort of unconsciousness that's a bit like sleeping. It's comfortable, in his mind, just darkness and that blissful feeling of <em>sleep<em>, of nothing, really. No worries, no thoughts, no dreams, just sleep.

He comes to with his face pressed against the metal diamond tread flooring, and screaming in his ear.

_Why am I on the floor?_ is his initial thought. The voice yelling he recognizes and he decides it's time to open his eyes.

Erik is on his knees beside him, not touching him, but calling his name, over and over, not sure of what to do. Concern is painted on his face and he breathes a sigh of relief when Charles finally opens his eyes.

"Charles," he breathes, "are you alright?"

"'Haven't decided yet," he mutters truthfully. With shaking arms, he carefully lifts himself onto his elbows. He wipes what he thinks is sweat off his forehead; his hand comes away red.

"_Mein gott,_" Erik whispers. He reaches into his pocket and retrieves a white handkerchief. He goes to press it against Charles's forehead, but hands him the piece of fabric instead. Charles takes it and sits up.

"That would probably explain this bloody headache," he says, trying to stem the flow. "What the hell happened?" He winces.

"You damn passed out again, that's what happened. Eyes rolled back and everything. It was terrifying, mate."

He groans internally. Of course. "Where'd Hank get to?"

"To get help, of course. You'd think we'd just leave you there?"

"I'm _fine_-"

"You have a goddamn head wound-"

"It's a scratch, man. My brains aren't spilling out and there aren't shards of my skull littering the damn ground."

"You might have a concussion, Charles, now stop arguing, goddamn it, and if you think about getting up I'll magnetize you to the damn floor."

Charles puts his head in his hands and starts thinking, something he does best. Fainting is caused by numerous things, this episode wasn't because of low blood sugar, but maybe blood pressure? Not enough blood getting to the brain? But it's not like he had been running a marathon or anything, just using Cerebro.

_Cerebro_.

The blasted machine. Of course.

His train of thought is interrupted. "Charles?"

A drop of blood makes it's way down his wrist; the handkerchief thoroughly soaked.

He looks up. "Yes?"

"Are you alright?"

"I'd literally kill for some Tylenol but other than that I'm quite fine. How are you, Erik?"

"Wondering where the hell Hank is."

"Oh, I hope he didn't call an ambulance."

"He better have."

Charles shakes his head (not the best idea) and sighs. He mumbles something, but Erik only catches "...so embarrassing..."

A moment later, Hank rushes in, panting, with several paramedics and the CIA agent whose name Erik can't even remember at the moment, no, not the lady, the other one.

Charles lets the damned medics poke him and prod him. He let's them stitch his forehead up and put a bandage on it that screams "Hello! I'm injured!". He lets them ask their silly questions, he does _not_ let them take him to the hospital for a CT scan, yes, he knows he might have a concussion, no, his judgement is just fine, thank you. He'd like a word with Hank afterwards and he ignores Erik's glare.

Charles, Hank, and Erik stride across the courtyard together after the medics leave.

"I-I'm so sorry, Charles, I thought the adjustments I made would fix the problem-"

"I know what the problem is."

"Oh, do you, Erik?" Charles sounds slightly annoyed yet curious. "Please share."

"You're not used to using your powers this much. All those minds are too overwhelming. It's like-too much psychic feedback."

"Which makes me pass out?"

Erik shrugs, but it's the best theory anyone has.

Charles bids Hank good-bye once they reach the building, and Erik follows him up to his room.

"You didn't have to accompany me," Charles says when they get to his door, but he lets them both in anyway. "I can find my way around, thank you very much."

"I wanted to make sure you got up alright, without passing out on the stairs."

"You're funny, Erik." Charles immediately starts for his drawers, where the bottle of Tylenol resides. He takes a few pills and falls onto the bed without even taking his shoes off.

Erik stands by the door.

"You can come in if you want," Charles's voice is muffled by the pillow. "Or you could just stand there. Suit yourself."

"You don't need me to stay?"

Charles rolls over to face him. "I'm a grown man, Erik, I can take care of myself."

The metalbender just shrugs and takes the seat by the window. It's late afternoon now, the gold light touching everything and filling the room. Charles mumbles something into the pillow.

"I'm sorry?"

"Don't tell Raven about this," he pleads.

"You can't hide from her forever, you know."

Charles doesn't respond.

Erik's not sure if one is supposed to sleep with a concussion, but he doesn't say anything. He just sits and reflects. It's about an hour later that Erik decides he's over stayed his welcome. He's halfway to the door when Charles stirs.

**TBC**, shortly

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><p><strong>AN: What a derpy place to leave off but whatever this chapter has gone for long enough (longest chapter yet what up what up), le sigh. I really need to see the movie again because I feel like a lot of this is inaccurate. Also, that CIA agent is never given a name. WTF man.**

**Your comments are much appreciated and I enjoy reading them.**

**Good, bad, whatever, review if you derp, it's not required, though.**

**thank you for reading**


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